Chapter 220: You Are Fuguang!

Chapter 220: You Are Fuguang!

Lu Yan had treated Ying Wouji's injuries for so long that he could naturally guess the man's true identity. But precisely because he guessed it, he marveled at how much this person could endure.

In the White Bone Sword Furnace, seven hundred years of crimson lotus hellfire failed to reduce this person to ashes. It must have been his intense hatred and unyielding will that allowed him to survive with this remnant life.

The character in the book... is not just a piece of paper anymore.

As Lu Yan supported Ying Wouji back to the palace, this thought suddenly emerged in his mind. At that moment, he became curious about Ying Wouji's fate in the book. However, the data panel remained gray and unusable, displaying a dense array of character buttons at the top.

The first character was Qu Shaotan, whose button was lit up, indicating that Lu Yan could read some of his life story.

The second character was the Corpse Puppet General, whose button was mostly illuminated, suggesting it would soon be unlocked.

Ying Wouji's button was squeezed among these numerous characters, neither at the front nor the back. But Lu Yan knew without thinking that unlocking it would be very challenging.

He was lost in thought when a voice devoid of emotion suddenly sounded in his ear:

"Lu Yan, do you know that cultivator?"

This question came out of nowhere. He hadn't done anything suspicious, so why was Ying Wouji asking? Could he suspect a connection between Lu Yan and that cultivator?

Lu Yan inwardly cursed. Ying Wouji was seething with anger and needed an outlet. He couldn't afford to be the target. Immediately, he knelt down and confessed:

"Your subordinate lives and dies as part of the Demon Realm, my honor and disgrace tied solely to Your Excellency. I would never betray you!"

Such oaths were mere words; Lu Yan wasn't afraid of being struck by lightning.

Ying Wouji sat cross-legged behind a low table, his dark red robes trailing on the ground like flowing blood. A painting of skeletons playing at night hung on the wall behind him, the white bones looking ghastly. In front of him was an ancient zither, beside which stood a small bronze incense burner shaped like a pine tree hanging over a lotus flower, emitting a faint sweet scent.

Lu Yan inexplicably recalled the split corpse from earlier and now smelled the sweet, bloody incense, causing his stomach to churn. He managed to suppress the urge to vomit.

Ying Wouji placed the white bone sword across his knees, lightly tapping the hilt with his fingertips as he stared at Lu Yan:

"Whether you are loyal or not doesn't matter much to me. What matters is that you don't mingle with the Immortal Sects. Otherwise, I will consider you a mortal enemy, understood?"

Over the past few days, Lu Yan had taken care of him meticulously, leading Ying Wouji to consider taking him under his wing. If he committed any other capital offense, it might be forgivable, but he had always disliked his people having any ties with the Immortal Sects, even the slightest bit.

Lu Yan was a smart person and should avoid making the wrong choices.

It wasn't suspicion, merely a preemptive warning.

Lu Yan nodded: "Your subordinate will remember Your Excellency's teachings."

Ying Wouji waved his sleeve and suddenly extended his hand: "Come closer."

Lu Yan hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and offering his hand. Ying Wouji swiftly grabbed his wrist, and a pale blue light flashed. A layer of frost silently covered their clasped fingers.

"Ice spirit root, quite a promising talent for cultivation."

Ying Wujiu released him after a moment, his clear and cold voice barely concealing his regret. It is best to start cultivation from a young age. Although Lu Yan is a promising seedling, he is already in his twenties, and his bones have fully developed. He has missed the optimal period, and it will be difficult for him to advance beyond the Soul Formation stage, likely ending up as a third-rate expert.

Lu Yan was taken aback, vaguely guessing something, so he remained silent. Sure enough, he heard Ying Wujiu say, "This Lord does not keep useless people. Though you have missed the age for cultivation, it's not too late to start now. Starting tomorrow, you will be promoted to the Grand Steward of the Xuanzhu Hall, and this Lord will personally teach you the art of cultivation."

For those sacrificial vessels offered to him, this could be considered a great blessing. After all, even if Ying Wujiu favored them, they would only end up as pampered songbirds used for replenishing his essence. But if they could cultivate, they would be one step closer to entering the realm of immortals, truly achieving enlightenment and ascension.

Lu Yan was somewhat surprised. In his mind, Ying Wujiu had always been a ruthless demon who shed blood without hesitation. Could he really be so kind to a mere servant? Although Lu Yan felt that learning cultivation wouldn't change much for him, acquiring another skill couldn't hurt. More importantly, he didn't want to offend Ying Wujiu, so he sincerely said:

"Thank you, Lord, for your favor!"

Ying Wujiu's tone softened slightly: "Sit down. Let's wait together; tonight might not be peaceful."

Lu Yan responded and sat cross-legged beside the table. He glanced at Ying Wujiu inadvertently, catching a glimpse of the man's right face behind the crystal mask, like viewing flowers through mist, revealing a translucent and elegant beauty. Dressed in red, he was dazzling to behold.

Ying Wujiu suddenly turned his head, his tone low and seemingly displeased: "What are you looking at?"

He was disfigured and naturally disliked others staring at him.

Lu Yan was momentarily entranced and replied instinctively: "I was admiring how beautiful you are, Lord."

The moment the words left his mouth, the hall fell into silence, and the temperature dropped noticeably.

Lu Yan met Ying Wujiu's dark, piercing gaze and realized belatedly that his words might sound more mocking than complimentary. His mind raced to find an explanation:

"I just thought... the white bone sword on your lap is very beautiful."

Phew, he managed to salvage the situation.

Ying Wujiu curled his lips coldly but wasn't willing to let him off easily. He sneered, "If this Lord's sword is beautiful, then this Lord himself must not be, correct?"

The scar was indeed unsightly, but staring at it for long seemed acceptable?

Lu Yan lowered his eyes silently, his thick lashes casting shadows. Beside the faint candlelight, he looked like a jade statue, perfect in every way, without a single flaw, entirely different from Ying Wujiu, who was riddled with scars:

"If I may speak freely, Lord, I believe your character is far stronger than most."

He praised his character rather than his appearance. Though it sounded like flattery, it carried a hint of sincerity.

Ying Wujiu's tone was unreadable: "Why?"

Outside, chaos reigned as they searched for spies, but inside the hall, Lu Yan and Ying Wujiu sat quietly, the distant noise seeming like a distant dream:

"A person is like jade, refined by carving, or like steel, tempered by fire."

"Lord, you have endured the pain of flesh being stripped from bone and the agony of burning in the fires of karma. You have become a piece of unpolished jade, with a heart as strong as steel. How can you not surpass those outside who seek fame and glory?"

His words revealed much, drawing a sharp, piercing gaze from Ying Wujiu, as if trying to pierce through his heart. His tone was dangerous—

"You have recognized this Lord."

Yes, he did recognize him. After all, apart from Fuguang, the Lord of the Demon Realm suppressed by the Hundred Immortal Sects seven hundred years ago, he couldn't think of another reason to explain why Ying Wujiu was entangled by karmic fire.

This man truly had a strong will, actually crawling out of that den of bones alive.

Lu Qian spoke honestly: "I recognized you."

Ying Wujiu suddenly approached Lu Qian, his icy aura enveloping him entirely, not hiding the murderous intent that flashed in his eyes: "Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?"

Not afraid; this old man can resurrect infinitely.

Lu Qian remained calm: "This subordinate's life belongs to the Lord. If the Lord wishes to take it, please do so."

The oppressive force around them suddenly intensified and then receded like a tide. Ying Wujiu slowly sat up straight, staring at Lu Qian expressionlessly. After a moment, he let out a light laugh: "You're quite interesting."

The days in the Bone Sword Furnace were endless darkness, with only scorching lava burning one to the point of despair. He hadn't seen such an interesting person in centuries.

Thinking back to those times, Ying Wujiu felt the pain intensify. He exhaled softly, his voice hoarse with fatigue and desolation: "Serve well, and if you remain loyal, this Lord will not mistreat you."

A strand of black hair slipped from his shoulder, evoking a sense of regret, as if it were a withered black lotus, fallen and decaying.

Lu Qian knew how much pain this man endured day and night, never ceasing. He slowly raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, then, under the cover of his sleeve, grasped Ying Wujiu's cold fingertips. A faint blue healing energy dispersed the searing pain, and he whispered:

"Let me wait with you."

Ying Wujiu stiffened but didn't pull away.

Indeed, tonight was chaotic. As dusk faded, a red sun slowly rose, and when dawn broke, Feng Sha led six servants dressed in green into the Xuanzhu Hall, kneeling and reporting:

"Lord, the servants have implicated each other. These six were wandering last night, their shifts disordered, seemingly involved with that person. We've brought them here for your judgment."

Lu Qian quietly released his grip and sat aside. The green-clad servants, both men and women, knelt below, begging for mercy, tears streaming down their faces:

"Spare us, Lord! Spare us! We were momentarily foolish! That person offered us thousands of spirit stones to disguise him as a servant and bring him into the city. If we refused, we would die on the spot. Please forgive us!"

Ying Wujiu seemed annoyed by their crying, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples with his index finger. His voice carried a hint of impatience:

"Scatter their souls and throw them into the Bone-Burning Furnace. Have the rest of the servants watch the punishment. Anyone who betrays again will suffer the same fate!"

These people were mere small fry; there must be spies from the Hundred Immortal Sects within the Demon Realm, just hidden too deeply to be found yet.

Feng Sha waved his hand, and immediately, demon cultivators dragged these people out. At that moment, one of the men clung to the threshold, shouting anxiously: "Lord! Lord! This subordinate knows of another spy in the Demon Realm, willing to redeem myself. Please spare my life!"

Ying Wujiu lifted his eyelids upon hearing this, intrigued. He tilted his chin slightly, signaling the demon cultivators to drag the man forward, then said indifferently:

"Speak."

The man hesitated for a moment, then suddenly pointed at Lu Qian, gritting his teeth: "It's him!"

"Recently, Lu Qian often leaves at night and doesn't return, acting suspiciously. Once, while I was on duty, I saw him talking to a man in black on the wall. But the man vanished in a flash, and I didn't dare say anything."

Everyone was shocked, and all eyes turned to Lu Qian, making him feel like needles were pricking his back. Only Ying Wujiu remained unmoved, asking curiously: "If you didn't dare speak before, why now?"

The servant stammered: "This subordinate... this subordinate feared he might harm the Lord."

Ying Wujiu responded indifferently: "That makes sense. Drag him down and burn him too."

"Yes!"

Feng Sha acknowledged the order, preparing to drag Lu Qian out for punishment. Unexpectedly, Ying Wujiu raised his hand to stop him, glaring at the green-clad man with a smug look, enunciating clearly:

"This Lord said, drag him down and burn him too—!"